


Overwhelmed

by Prentice



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Tony Stark, Community: avengerkink, M/M, Not Beta Read, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Top Bruce Banner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 20:37:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18709555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prentice/pseuds/Prentice
Summary: Tony didn’t really remember how they got here.





	Overwhelmed

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to [this](https://avengerkink.livejournal.com/10266.html?thread=23269402#t23269402) prompt on avengerkink.

Tony didn’t really remember how they got here.

He knows that they’d started in the lab. They were always in the lab when the could be these days, so it wasn’t really surprising that they were _there_. It was just that he didn’t really remember how they got from _there_ to _here_. 

He should have.

He _knows_ he should have.

Having an eidetic memory was one thing, but having a memory – a mind – like his, where even the most useless of information swirled like a tidal pool of garbage waiting to be used, tended to mean he could never forget anything even if he wanted to most days.

Which was to say, he should’ve _definitely_ remembered how he got here: face smashed frantically against a pillow as he tried his best not to tremble out of his skin, something hungry and desperate – _fuck,_ he was desperate; so very, very, _desperate_ – clamoring wildly beneath his skin.  His body so sensitive that he felt sore and achy and just this side of overwhelmed. His fingers clutching and scrambling weakly against the bed sheets as he panted and whined and _felt_ ; everything about him shivery and pliant and stretched.

Also, good.

He felt _good_.

So fucking good, in fact, that he could barely think straight for it – could barely think _at all_ – and it was just so fucking good he wanted to just – just –

“Bruce,” he gasped hoarsely, voice like honey over gravel, all sweet and rough and trembling shakily around the edges. “Bruce, _Jesus_ , don’t – don’t – oh, _fuck_! – don’t…”

He wanted to say ‘ _stop’_ , wanted to say, ‘ _don’t stop’_ , but the words caught somewhere in the back of his throat, which was already sore and achy and tender because he – because they were…

“Jesus _fuck_ ,” he choked out, entire body shuddering because who the fuck _knew_ that Bruce – Bruce fucking _Banner_ , the poster boy for shy _quiet_ scientists’ everywhere – could reach his fingers quite so far or wiggle his tongue quite so aggressively or-or –

Fuck, he couldn’t even _think_ clearly anymore. Couldn’t even –

“Oh shit, _yes_ , there. Right there. Don’t stop, Bruce. _Fuck_ , don’t stop. Please don’t stop. I want – it’s – _please_ ,” he babbled breathlessly, body shuddering and **_clenching_** almost painfully. His fingers scrambling quickly, desperately, against the sheets, stomach muscles fluttering uncomfortably because he was  – he was –

He was used up. He was so fucking used up. It was – god, it was amazing. He felt amazing. Everything was so fucking amazing, and he’d do anything- _anything_ -to make sure it never stopped.

“Really?” Bruce panted abruptly, hungrily, _obscenely_ , from somewhere between Tony’s spread thighs, his warm breath curling deliciously over Tony’s still slightly spread ass cheeks, and Tony couldn’t help but shiver, a half-stifled whine breaking somewhere in the back of his throat. “Anything?”

And, fuck, had Tony said that out loud? He hadn’t meant to, but – oh, who cared. He certainly didn’t.

“Anything,” he confirmed roughly, legs shuffling and spreading against the bedsheets as Bruce’s fingers continued to slide in and out of him. His ass tender and swollen and strangely, uncomfortably, empty now that Bruce was only teasingly dipping his fingers in. “Just, please, Bruce. I want – need –”

“I know what you need,” Bruce cut in, voice husky and soft, deeper than it’s ever been before. It rumbled in his chest, vibrating and low and with shades of something that Tony knew he should’ve probably been alarmed about but couldn’t seem to muster more than a few tantalizingly nervous shivers over because of that voice – that _tone_ …

It _did_ things to him. Terrible – wonderful – horrible – amazing – _unsettling_ – things. Things that made him want to _do_ things – _say_ things – he never had before.

Which wasn’t much, admittedly. He’d never been shy about sex. His body had always been his own playground and he’d always enjoyed exploring it, but this was – this was something different.

Something better. Something…

“Turn over,” Bruce said – ordered, really – and fuck – _shit_ – this was why. This was why it did things. This was why it was good, just _so_ good.

“C’mon, Tony,” Bruce continued, fingers pulling _out_ – god _dam_ mit – and gliding over his skin, sloppy wet with spit and come – so much fucking come because Bruce didn’t – wasn’t – _hadn’t_ been going easy on him, and could fuck like a goddamn machine. His thick cock like a gorgeously hot steel rod inside of Tony, one that just didn’t seem to ever fully soften, and that Bruce seemed determined to screw into him any way, every way, he could.

Not that Tony was complaining.

He wasn’t.

He _really_ wasn’t.

It was just that he was sore and he was aching and his ass felt loose and swollen and empty and so desperately in need of filling that he wanted to cry or moan or scream or _something_ , but all he could really muster was a whimpering keen that he’d never even heard himself make before.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Bruce murmured, body lifting up and over his, lips brushing softly against one shoulder blade. A long-fingered hand palmed Tony’s hip encouragingly, gently shifting and lifting him with such careful strength that Tony keened again, his body rolling languidly over onto his back as he stared up at eyes that were – faintly green – and hungry – and piercing – and Tony felt a tremor of something that wasn’t exactly fear warming in his belly until…

Until Bruce smiled.

He smiled.

Green-tinged eyes crinkling around the corners just the way Tony loved them too as Bruce’s body once again settled over his. Bruce’s solid weight pressing Tony down into the mattress and holding him in place as he pressed a lazily hungry kiss against his mouth, their tongues brushing lightly against each other. And it was all just...

_Fuck_.

Tony didn’t want this to end. He _never_ wanted this to end. He never wanted this to – to – god, he didn’t know. He just – he _wanted_ – everything, anything.

“Want your mouth again,” Bruce muttered as he pulled back, their lips dragging together with every syllable, and it was so sweet and close that Tony felt his pulse jump, sluggishly painful arousal curling low in the base of his spine. “But I’m pretty sure we’re out of condoms.” Something green, glinting, and satisfied flashed through Bruce’s eyes as his smile widened slightly. “Went through the whole pack.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Tony rasped back, a shiver racing down his spine as Bruce started pressing open-mouthed kisses against his cheek, his chin, the side of his neck; his teeth occasionally scraping against oversensitive skin as his fingers tangled in Tony’s sweat dampened hair.

Because that pack?

That pack had been new, brand new. He knew it had been. Could remember vaguely when he’d asked FRIDAY to order it weeks ago, something hopeful and hot and breathless tightening in his chest, because Bruce had been so  – _was_ so – perfect.

He was perfect.

So ridiculously perfect.

With his big pointy brain and sad face. His sweet smile and stupidly tragic past. Not to mention his perfectly absurd sense of self-worth and the way he just _changed_ sometimes and became enormous and green and rage-filled and Tony…

Tony thought – wondered if – maybe he was in love. Maybe that’s what this was. He wasn’t really sure.

His brain felt a little bit like mush right now, his body oversensitized and sore and even his weeping cock, which had been heavy and full for too fucking long, was aching in ways he hadn’t really felt since he was a  teenager and just learning how good it felt to touch himself twenty billion times a day (which, seriously, he probably should’ve apologized to Rhodey for because his honey bear had always had the worst timing when coming back to their dorm).

And the thing was, Bruce wasn’t even done.

He wasn’t even _done_. Not really, not fully. His cock was still hard and hot and thick against the crease of one of Tony’s thighs and he could feel pre-come dribbling sticky wet onto his skin and – this was love.

Tony was pretty sure that this was love. Total and complete goddamn love. Fuck. 

_Fuck_.

He was in love. With Bruce. Bruce fucking Banner.

Holy fucking _shit_.

He was _in love_.

“Tony,” Bruce rumbled against his skin, voice slurred and rough and drunk sounding. His tone breaking up Tony’s name until it sounded a little closer to something that the Big Green would say, and Tony felt excitement flutter in his chest because this was – yes. Just yes.

“Yeah, buddy,” Tony answered, hands lifting and sliding against Bruce’s back – and maybe it’s just the voice that’s throwing him, but has Bruce gotten – was he bigger? He felt a little bigger. In Tony’s arms, he felt – bigger, stronger, wider.

Bulkier in a way that Tony just didn’t associate with Bruce, who had always been all lean muscle and stark lines. Wiry, even. Not – big – despite how very contrary a certain part of his anatomy was in comparison to the rest of him…

His cock.

Tony had meant his cock.

His big, thick, hard cock, that Tony couldn’t really decide if he wanted to sit on or suck on again and had nearly wept at the sight of it because _Jesus fucking christ yes_ he wanted that, but that was beside the point, because right now…

Right now Bruce felt – bigger – all over. Not too big. Not Hulk big. Just…bigger. Like the big guy was lingering right there just beneath the surface and Tony…

He _wanted_ that.

Suddenly.

Desperately.

“I think,” he decided, voice croaky and hoarse as Bruce continued to rumble softly against his skin, lips and teeth and tongue dragging hot shivery patterns on his skin. “I think we can forgo the condom, this time, big guy.”

And Tony wasn’t really sure what he was expecting from a statement like that but it certainly wasn’t for Bruce to still.  Totally, completely.  For a few endlessly breathless seconds, he did and said nothing, and then…

Muscles shifting and tightening beneath his touch, Bruce’s head slowly lifted, those eyes – green and glowing with streaks of warm brown already fading to the edges – stared down at him, fingers flexing, pulling, in his hair. There was a question there, Tony knew. Could see it, even if it hadn’t been put into words, and he smiled slightly, something tired and soft and still so fucking _hungry_ for this man flowing through him.

“C’mon, greenbean,” Tony breathed, one hand gliding up until his fingers could tangle in Bruce’s damply curling locks. He tugged them gently, teasingly. “Want you in my mouth again. Then maybe,” he swallowed, tongue dragging provocatively against his bottom lip. “You could fuck me again. Right into the mattress.”

“Tony,” Bruce growled almost violently then, voice rumbling and inhuman and Tony wasn’t even the least bit afraid because he wanted this. He _wanted_ it. Even if he was overstimulated and sore and aching and undoubtedly going to be a fucking _wreck_ of a man after this. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to _walk_ after this but screw it.

Just, screw it.

He was doing this.

_They_ were doing this.

“Fuck my mouth again, baby,” he murmured encouragingly, tongue once more dragging against his bottom lip, and instantly, pretty green-eyed Bruce was above him, over him, beside him, hands lifting and arranging and all but tossing him around like Tony didn’t weigh a thing and, _fuck_ , that shouldn’t be so arousing.

It was, though.

It really _was_.

“Tony,” Bruce growled again, and Tony blinked up at him from where he’d been propped against the headboard, eyes wide and wet, because Bruce was crowding into him and over him. His fat cock heavy and hot and shaded with just that faintest hints of darkest green right in front of Tony’s eyes. Right in front of Tony’s _mouth_ , dark green cockhead close enough to Tony’s lips that he could simply flick out his tongue and _lick it_.

Which he did, eyes never leaving Bruce’s, and it’s – _fuck_. It’s everything he knew it would be and more because Bruce _snarled_ , a steadying hand lifting to brace against the wall above Tony’s head as the other slid back into his mussed and sweaty hair, tugging him almost gently forward. Bruce’s eyes glowing a pretty muddy green down at him, gaze unwavering, and Tony didn’t hesitate, not even for a second, as his mouth opened and his tongue swirled.

It didn’t take long to fall into a rhythm, his shaky hands lifting and gripping Bruce’s hips as Bruce rocked forward, his cock pressing in and in until it brushed against the back of Tony’s throat, and he wasn’t really bigger than he was before here. Bruce was – he was already big; his cock heavy and thick and long, but Tony couldn’t deny that there’s a difference there, somehow. There was a change.

Maybe in the base of his cock, which seemed a little wider, or maybe in the throbbing vein along his length that seemed a little thicker, or maybe – maybe he _was_ a little bigger, his cock heavier and fatter, or-or –

Maybe it was just Tony’s imagination.  

It could be.

Tony’s jaw was already sore after all, muscles he hadn’t used in years screaming with a deliciously sharp ache that all but shouted of overuse. He moaned around it anyway. Fingers flexing against Bruce’s hips as the other man set a commanding pace, fucking carefully into Tony’s mouth like he just couldn’t get enough of it.

Maybe he couldn’t, Tony thought arousal-drunk and happy. Maybe he couldn’t get enough, maybe he never would, and Tony would pass out aching and sweaty and wet as Bruce just kept on fucking him. Kept on _using_ him.

Keening softly at the thought, Tony swallowed as best he could, spit and pre-come dribbling messily down his chin as Bruce snarled another inhuman sound above him, hips flexing under Tony’s grip. There was something nearly brutal in the way he was moving. Not purposely harmful, just assertive.

Possessive, even.

The fingers curled around the back of Tony’s skull both caringly protective and arousingly territorial. Like Tony was something – _someone_ –  special, someone perfect, that both sides of Bruce wouldn’t willingly give up. Would fight _for_ , if someone ever tried to take him away from him – them.

Fingers tightening on Bruce’s hips, Tony tried his best to relax his throat, head bobbing just a little faster as he worked to deep throat as much of Bruce’s cock as he could. It wasn’t easy. The ache in his jaw was starting to sting, muscles protesting in a near constant burn that had tears leaking out the corners of his eyes, but he did it anyway. His own drooling cock twitching desperately between his restlessly shifting legs, he put everything he had into it. Using all his skill to make this as good as it could be for Bruce, his own arousal a persistent but secondary afterthought.

It wouldn’t take much to make himself come, he knew. A brush of his hand, a brush of the sheet. Hell, a stiff enough wind could’ve probably made him explode at this point what with Bruce having kept him on a knife’s edge for so long. Too long, really; his balls aching in a way that he knew he’d feel for the next few days at least because as much as he hated to admit it, he wasn’t as young as he used to be and didn’t have the recovery time of a twenty-year-old, but _Christ_ , he couldn’t really bring himself to care right now.

This was all – it was just so – there wasn’t really words for it, it was so good.

From the way Bruce was now cradling the back of his head, long fingers carefully keeping him in place as he fucked Tony’s mouth in earnest, to the way his muscles stung and burned, something hazy and soft building in his chest, in his mind, as spit and precome and sweat dripped down the line of his neck.

And it was all – it was his – this moment, it was his – _theirs_ – and that was just – it was…

“Tony,” Bruce bit out from above him, tone choppy and harsh, and it was like a rumble of thunder over Tony’s nerve endings. Shivery sparks of pleasure raced up and down his spine as a sudden rush of pre-come spilled into his mouth faster than he could swallow. It leaked out from between his lips, rushing over Tony’s chin and neck, and the sight of it must’ve been too much for Bruce because he was abruptly wrenching himself away, cock sliding from Tony’s mouth so fast it made Tony almost dizzy.

So much so that Tony could only breathe and pant and blink wetly up at him, the sudden rush of emptiness making him feel lightheaded and wrongfooted and a little bit like he’d missed something. Something important. Something vital.

He was about to ask what was wrong, the thready edge of panic already curling coldly up his spine, when the sight before him finally registered, his damp eyes widening when everything clicked into place like a kaleidoscope suddenly resolving itself into bright brilliant shapes and colors.

Because for all that Tony knew it was still Bruce here with him, he was looking into the Hulk’s face. The Hulk’s eyes. The Hulk’s – everything, really.

Skin flushed a strange pinky-green, it was almost as if Bruce and the Hulk had become an amalgamation of themselves. Hulk’s bulk becoming smaller, Bruce’s leanness becoming bigger like they were both trying to find a way to…fit. With Tony.

To _be_ , with Tony. Together. All at the same time.

Sore throat tightening, Tony swallowed thickly, eyes closing briefly when Bruce – when the Hulk – when Bruce _and_ the Hulk – reached out and cradled Tony’s face, the sound of Tony’s name once more rumbling in the air, and it was…everything.

It was everything – _everything_ – that Tony could’ve wanted. Could _still_ want. Now or ever.

“Yeah, big guy. Bruce,” Tony acknowledged roughly, voice a hoarse whisper of what it usually was as he lifted his own hands and placed them over Bruce’s, over the Hulk’s, over _their_ hands. “I’m here, buddy.”

For a seemingly endless moment, they sat there, Bruce and the Hulk’s fingers gently cradling Tony’s face as Tony stared up at him – _them_ – before Tony smiled, fingers squeezing softly around fingers that were not quite the right size either way.

“C’mon, babe,” Tony said, voice ragged. “We’re not done here.” Head-turning, he pressed a soft open-mouthed kiss against the meaty swell of one green-tinged palm, tongue brushing lightly even as he dropped his grip back down to Bruce’s hips and pulled forward encouragingly. “Not yet, anyway.”

Bright eyes darkening with renewed arousal, Bruce rumbled a noise that was more vibration than sound, one large hand sliding forward until he could swipe his thumb against Tony’s messy chin. It came away sticky and wet, pre-come and saliva slick against his flesh. Shuddering, Tony couldn’t help but groan as Bruce pointedly lifted it to his own mouth, tongue sliding out to lick it clean even as he held Tony’s gaze.

“Fuck,” Tony groaned, aching cock spasming against his stomach. Pre-come drooled a messy puddle onto his skin, his erection throbbing painfully enough that he felt faint with it.  “You don’t play fair, do you, big guy?”

Lips pulling into a savage sort of grin, Bruce rumbled, body hunching forward as he leaned down for a kiss. It was dirty and sweet and over before Tony could really appreciate it, a soft noise breaking somewhere in the back of his throat when Bruce pulled away, large hands once more manhandling Tony to where he wanted him. Which wasn’t far it turned out, his body sliding fully down onto the damp mattress until Bruce’s bulk was over him and on top of him. His forearms bracketing Tony in until he felt closed in and close.

Bruce’s body shielding him from the rest of the room – the rest of the _world_ – so that it felt as though they were the only two left on the entire planet.

Eyes closing, Tony gave a low hum of pleasure as Bruce moved slightly against him, thick cock dragging against the crease of one of Tony’s thighs as he shifted and moved. Nudged Tony’s legs with his own in encouragement until his cock dragged heavy and hot between Tony’s ass cheeks. Leftover spit and slick smoothing the way as he rocked his hips back and forth, swollen cockhead slipping and sliding and catching teasingly against Tony’s opening.

Hands sliding over Bruce’s skin, Tony opened his eyes once more, lips parting on a gasp at the way Bruce was watching him, eyes vivid green and hungry as he rocked his hips again and again. His cockhead dragging against Tony in a maddeningly slow catch-and-drag that made Tony’s already sensitive opening flutter and throb. His own hips rocking in uneven counter rhythm to try to find just the right angle for Bruce to slide right in.

“ _Bruce_ ,” Tony hissed suddenly, blunted fingernails scrambling and scratching against the other man’s skin as an unexpected roll of his hips caused Bruce’s cockhead to push its way inside and he was definitely bigger.

Tony could feel that Bruce – that the Hulk – that Bruce _and_ the Hulk were definitely bigger. Not too big, not dangerous big, just bigger. His cockhead stretching Tony wide enough that he couldn’t help but wonder how it must look – how _he_ must look – with that beautiful big green-tinged cock stretching him wide open and gaping.

The mental image alone was enough to make Tony whimper, hips shifting and tilting until he could bring his knees up a little higher, a choked off whine catching somewhere in the back of his throat when Bruce sunk in a little deeper, stretching him a little bit wider and _Jesus Christ_ that felt…

“C’mon,” Tony encouraged hoarsely, breathlessly, hips rocking in rhythm now because he wanted all of it. All of Bruce. All of the Hulk. He wanted everything. “Give it to me, big guy.”

“Tony,” Bruce growled lowly in return, a large hand coming down to cradle Tony’s thigh as he gave another shallow roll of his hips, cockhead dragging maddeningly against Tony’s stretched and sensitive inner walls as he pushed in a little deeper. “ _Tony_.”

“That’s, oh fuck, _yes_ , that’s it,” Tony urged, eyelids fluttering shut as his cock spasmed against his stomach, another burst of pre-come drooling messily from his slit as he tried not to tremble into pieces. “That’s it. Give it to me, baby. Bruce. Give it to me. C’mon, c’mon, c’m– ”

A strangled punched out little noise surged its way past his lips as Bruce suddenly gave a hard snapping thrust forward, cock sliding in deep and smooth, stretching him until he felt a little bit like he might burst or pass out or – fuck – _fuck_ –  _yes_ – that’s _it_ – come all over himself. All over them both. His balls tightening and throbbing and his cock fucking _weeping_ pre-come and Tony could do nothing but ride it out, tears prickling his eyelids as he fought back the urge to just let it happen because not yet – not _yet_ – he didn’t want to come yet – not until – until –

“Tony,” Bruce – Hulk – moaned, voice rumbling over every single one of Tony’s nerve endings and it was so much – too much – it was _too much_ and he couldn’t hold on anymore. Not with the Hulk – with Bruce – sounding just as fucking destroyed as he was, oversized frame shaking the entire bed as he fucked Tony with slow, deep, _hard_ thrusts that Tony almost couldn't stand for how good they felt. And there was no way – no _way_ – that he could hold out against that, orgasm crashing into him like a repulsor blast to the stomach; his toes curling and back arching, blunt fingernails digging into green skin and _fuck – fuck – fuck!_

He felt like he was dying – or being brought back to life – or _fuck_ – he didn’t know. His body felt like it was falling apart, muscles clenching and spasming as Bruce and the Hulk snarled above, long slow thrusts turning into short little jabs that rubbed so painfully perfect against his prostate he wept with how good it felt. Breathless punched out little noises escaping him as he came messily between them.

How long it went on, he couldn’t say.

Wouldn’t be able to say, even if he wanted to, because his vision grayed out and his ears rang and his body arched and everything was pain and pleasure, and he might’ve passed out – would’ve passed out – if hadn’t been for the way that Bruce’s thrusts had suddenly stuttered. Hips jerking and jumping forward in a hard thrust that felt a little bit like a tidal wave crashing into the shore. His cock so deep Tony wondered if he would choke on it as Bruce – as the Hulk – _roared_ his own release above him.

And it’s too much – _so_ much, the feel of Bruce’s fat cock pulsing hot and hard inside him. Filling him up – filling him full – too full – _uncomfortably_ full. So full he could already feel it leaking out of him from around Bruce’s cock in dirty little gushes that made his toes curl and his body clench and it’s over too soon and not soon enough.

Bruce’s body curling over his own as he rumbled in satisfaction, lips dragging lazily over Tony’s skin as Tony whimpered and whined, body throbbing and head fuzzy and he was going to pass out now. He knew he was. Could already feel the exhaustion and overuse catching up to him and he wanted…he needed…

“Sleep, Tony,” Bruce and the Hulk rumbled softly, the strange echo of two voices suddenly overlapping causing Tony’s eyelids to flutter, body easing closer to sleep even as a warm hand carded gently through his hair. “We’ll take care of you.”

Humming softly – he really _was_ in love – Tony slept.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any lingering tense or grammar issues.


End file.
